


And every sinner has a future

by Onlythegodsarereal



Series: The future influences the present just as much as the past [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: And Failing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Seers, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a bathtub, someone reads jaskier's future, two idiots trying to hide their feelings basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlythegodsarereal/pseuds/Onlythegodsarereal
Summary: “A town, a town, there was a town I say.” He started singing softly composing on the spot. He had had more difficult challenges in his years as a bard and not even Geralt’s intense stare could hinder his abilities. “And a lovely young maiden tall, kind and fair and she danced, she danced, she danced I say, she danced with her shadows ‘till the break of the day.”“Is this another one of those ballads of yours where a mysterious witcher kisses a girl in the middle of the woods?” Geralt interrupted him bitterly.“It is not,” Jaskier said immediately.A hunt different than usual forces Jaskier to confront with his own future while Geralt has a wild revelation about his own heart.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The future influences the present just as much as the past [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673185
Comments: 20
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

Summer arrived suddenly and heavy that year bringing unforgiving hot days and sultry insufferable nights, Jaskier had learned it very well having to share a quite small tent with a quite large witcher. If during winter the proximity had only brought more warmth and a fuzzy feeling dangerously near his groin, that Jaskier had elated not to analyze too much, summer nights inside that thing were a curse sent from an evil witch.

“There is a storm coming,” Geralt commented somberly, his eyes raised to the graying sky.

“Thank the gods, we may get one night of decent sleep,” Jaskier replied relieved.

“Mmh. There is a town less than an hour by horse from here, we’ll better be there before it starts.”

It would have been too much to ask for two blessings in the same day. The storm started when they barely sighted the small town from a distance and when they reached the inn they were soaked wet.

“I’d never believed I would have said this, but I’m starting to hate the summer more than I hate the winter,” Jaskier said entering the inn sulkily. At least during the winter, the inn would have had a nice fire where to dry their clothes.

“Do you ever stop complaining?” Geralt asked deadpan.

Jaskier ignored him and went to ask the innkeeper for two rooms. He loved traveling with Geralt, really, the gods knew how much inspiration their adventures provided, but he wasn’t in the mood to not get rooms only because a witcher had asked for them. The innkeeper eyed him thoughtfully.

“Tell me, aren’t you the bard who goes around singing about that witcher?” he asked after a moment of silent staring and Jaskier winced internally.

“It is me in flesh and blood.” He replied with forced cheerfulness. There was no sense in lying, Geralt was too easily identified, and he had learned that some good humor could help obtain a lot of things.

“I only have one room left, but it is yours and free of charge if you’ll sing good enough to keep people drinking at the bar tonight.”

Jaskier couldn’t believe his ears.

“Consider it a deal!” He acclaimed excitedly. “Could I be so hopeful to think you would add a hot bath to the payment for my services?”

“At your own risk, bard, if I won’t be satisfied with your entrainment tonight I’ll make you pay for everything tomorrow morning.” The innkeeper warned him, but Jaskier was too confident in his own skills to be worried. He thanked the man and run immediately to make Geralt participate in the good news.

“There is only one bed here.” Geralt noted observing the room the innkeeper had assigned them.

“He did say that it was his last one,” Jaskier said shrugging. “I don’t see where the problem is, we’ve slept together in closer quarters,” he pointed out starting to strip from the wet clothes.

“Mmh.” Geralt replied non-committedly. He started to divest too. Neither of them had ever been particularly shy around one another nor around anyone else, Jaskier knew he had nothing to be ashamed of, more than one lady, and the occasional sir, had assured him of that, while Geralt probably didn’t care what anyone thought, as usual. Even though Jaskier had to admit, Geralt didn’t have much to be ashamed of either.

He risked a glance in his direction and was rewarded with the perfect view of Geralt’s naked and muscular back. He reprimanded himself immediately going back to concentrate on his own trousers, those weren’t thoughts of a friend, there was no doubt Geralt would not have appreciated them.

“If sharing a bed worries you so much you’re more than welcome to take the floor, but I’m more than fed up with sleeping uncomfortably, thank you very much,” he added then, to fill the silence more than anything else.

“I’m not worried,” Geralt protested annoyed.

“You’re the one who whined the moment we entered the room.”

“I certainly did not whine.”

“Tell yourself whatever you want.”

“If I did whine I could as well pick up a lute and dress with ridiculous clothes because I would be you.” For a casual listener, Geralt’s expression would have seemed identical to his usual brooding face, but Jaskier had traveled with him long enough to recognize the tale-tell signs of one of Geralt’s rare smiles: the lines getting deeper at the side of his mouth, his eyes getting brighter and the lines of his jaw getting slightly softer. Jaskier always thought that Geralt was beautiful, but in those moments if felt like a completely different kind of beauty, something almost ethereal.

Jaskier feigned a look of utter offense mostly to try to keep that smile on Geralt's face, but before he could think of a rebuttal they were interrupted by the innkeeper and his son bringing the water for the bath. The poor boy blushed violently when he saw the two men almost naked and he all but run outside the room the moment the water was poured in the tub. They finished undressing in silence and then Geralt entered in the bathtub with a small sigh of relief while Jaskier started disposing their clothes around the lit fire.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asked watching him surprised.

“Making sure our clothes will be dry for when we’ll have to put them back in the sacks tomorrow, if we put them away still wet they will start to smell and then all our things will smell, it’ll be a horrid affair let me tell you.”

“Aren’t you taking a bath?”

“I will, after you.”

Geralt tilted his head slightly to one side.

“Now who’s the one worrying?”

“I’m not worrying, but the bathtub is too little for both of us.”

“It is not. And you’ll take a cold if you go around naked and wet like that. I’ll not tolerate you complaining because you’re sick during a hunt.”

Geralt was right. The bathtub was big enough for two men, the fact was that it was clearly not big enough for two men sitting at a respectable distance. Jaskier respected Geralt too much and the idea of how his traitorous body could react so close to the witcher’s naked one made him riddled with guilt. Insisting though would have been too suspicious so Jaskier nodded resigned and joined Geralt in the tub praying all the gods above and below to give him strength.

Geralt had to shift his legs to the side to make room for Jaskier and he could feel the brush of the witcher’s calf against his, but nothing more. He suppressed a grunt and leaned his head back against the border of the tub.

“You’re silent.” Geralt observed deadpan as always.

“And you’re a master of observation,” Jaskier replied without moving his eyes from the extremely interesting roof.

It wasn’t that he felt uncomfortable so close and personal with the witcher, it wasn’t the first time they had found themselves in such proximity and with very few clothes, the problem was exactly that he felt very, very, comfortable, too comfortable maybe. He felt like he had almost everything he could ask for, stress on almost, unfortunately. Geralt was his friend, a very dear friend and he trusted so rarely that Jaskier felt sick at the mere thought of breaking that trust. No, Geralt deserved a good friend, a friend who would have done anything to make sure he was happy, as happy as a witcher could be at least, and able to take a damn bath without being ogled like a piece of meat.

“You’re never silent.” Geralt went on and if Jaskier had known him even a little less he would have never noticed the slight worry in his tone.

He sighed internally.

“I’m thinking.”

“You can do that?” Geralt asked as serious as always, but with the smallest of inflections that gave away the playfulness of his words. Jaskier kicked him in the sheen.

“That is no way to talk to your best friend who, by the way, is going to pay for room and bath from the sweat of his forehead,” Jaskier complained with another kick in the witcher’s sheen, not that he thought Geralt would even feel it.

“Not your friend.” Geralt almost sing-sung, but there was no heat behind it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jaskier replied waving a hand in the air dismissive. Those words had stopped to hurt a long time ago. He knew that not even Geralt actually believed in them anymore.

“Thank you for the bath, though. And the room.” Geralt added after a moment of silence.

Jaskier tried not to sound too surprised by those words.

“It’s nothing, really. It isn’t as if I don’t enjoy performing, after all.”

“Mmh.” Geralt said and Jaskier thought the conversation would end there leaving him once again to wrestle with his very inappropriate thoughts. Maybe he should have started monologuing about something unimportant, he mused, just to distract himself, but before he could choose the subject, Geralt talked again.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked nonchalantly as if it was a question he asked every day which really wasn’t the case.

“I was composing.” Jaskier lied smoothly.

“On which subject?”

“Aren’t you chatty today?”

“Jaskier.” Geralt insisted pushing his thigh with his foot and Jaskier couldn’t stop the blush spreading over his face, he tried to hide it raising his head to the ceiling again.

“You never ask about my songs.” He observed trying to buy some time.

“I never need to ask, you’re always humming away like a fucking lark the whole day.”

“I like lark. I admit I would have preferred a more colorful bird, something more exotic maybe, but I understand that the metaphor is quite apt, isn’t it? But if I’m a lark what does it make of you? A wolf? Maybe a wolf is too banal.”

Geralt pushed him again more forcefully making water splash outside of the tub.

“All right, all right, gods, you’re so bossy.”

He chanced a glance at the witcher and found him watching back intently. Jaskier found suddenly difficult to swallow.

“ _A town, a town, there was a town I say._ ” He started singing softly composing on the spot. He had had more difficult challenges in his years as a bard and not even Geralt’s intense stare could hinder his abilities. “ _And a lovely young maiden tall, kind and fair and she danced, she danced, she danced I say, she danced with her shadows ‘till the break of the day._ ”

“Is this another one of those ballads of yours where a mysterious witcher kisses a girl in the middle of the woods?” Geralt interrupted him bitterly.

“It is not,” Jaskier said immediately. He stopped writing those when he realized that they did more than annoy Geralt, they made him sad and moody for days. Jaskier had never found the courage to ask why, but he had vowed never to compose a song with that subject ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

Geralt followed Jaskier down in the main hall which doubled as a tavern. The innkeeper had set up a small stage with a stool for the bard to perform on and Jaskier had immediately marched there almost vibrating with energy. 

“Aren’t you going to eat something before?” Geralt asked skeptically. 

“I’ll eat during my break, don’t get all mother hen on me now, Geralt,” Jaskier answered with a smug smirk and the witcher made sure to keep his expression as neutral as possible when he replied. 

“You can starve yourself for what I care, but you usually drink your weight in ale when you perform at taverns and you end up throwing up in an alley or half-unconscious on some table and then I have to carry you back to our room.” 

“So you do care!” Jaskier exclaimed even smugger than before throwing his arms in the air with joy.

Geralt growled. 

“I’ll eat during my break, don’t worry,” Jaskier repeated waving a hand in the air and positioning on the stool and Geralt rolled his eyes for good measure and turned his back to him directed to the darkest corner of the room where he could keep an eye on the door and almost all the windows while, ate the same time, having his back to a wall, the perfect spot. 

Sitting down Geralt ordered a beer and then instructed the barmaid to leave a mug near the bard during for the performance. When Jaskier saw the mug arrive he looked confused for one moment and then turned to the witcher smiling as bright as the sun. Geralt felt a weird sort of tug in his stomach at the view and nodded curtly before turning all his attention on his own mug. 

Jaskier was working for both of them that night, after all, it was only normal that he wanted to thank him somehow. Not that he enjoyed it, of course, relying on someone else for a place to sleep.

Relying on someone meant needing someone and needing someone was the last thing any witcher would want. He didn’t like it, not one bit. 

Though, if he was going to be completely honest and there, in the solitude of his own mind, he could, the truth was that he didn’t like the fact that he liked it. 

It was nice knowing that even if his last job hadn’t earned him enough he could still count on Jaskier to found him a hot bath.

It was nice having someone able to sweet-talk the villagers into not taking fights with him after a couple too many beers at the tavern. 

It was nice having someone not recoiling in horror when he came back from a particularly gory hunt

It was nice traveling with Jaskier, he had to begrudgingly admit, worst even, it was nice needing him. 

In his own experience though nice things never last for long. Jaskier had traveled with him for something more than ten years by then: a short time for a witcher, maybe, but a long time for a human. How long before Jaskier was going to realize he was throwing away his best years running behind someone who had nothing else to offer him apart for the novelty of adventure? 

Better not get too used to it, keep the bard at arm's length so that it was going to be easier for the both of them when Jaskier finally decided to have his own life, his own big adventure. 

Jaskier had started his set with a couple of favorites of his, something he’d like to do to warm the mood as he used to say, during Toss a Coin, still one oh biggest success, he threw a wink in Geralt’s general direction which the witcher thought was more probably directed to the barmaid serving the table behind him, but the audience seemed pretty convinced it was for him and they all cheered for the witcher drunkenly. Well, better than getting lynched, Geralt thought hiding behind the rim of his mug. 

Of the mass of yelling men, only one looked at him silently with a stern look. Geralt wondered if he was in search for troubles, but before he could form an opinion the man stood up and got out of the tavern. Less than one of Jaskier’s song later the same man was back sporting in his hands a small bag that Geralt was ready to bet on Roach was full of coins. 

“You’re the witcher then.” He said once he stood in front of him, it clearly wasn’t a question. Geralt barely nodded and studied him: leather clothes, resistant but light for agility, calluses on his hands but not from a sword, well built, probably a hunter. He didn’t look particularly worried or scared so the job wasn’t something he was prepared to do himself, in the case Geralt would have refused. 

“What do you want me to kill?” he finally inquired sternly. 

The hunter cleared his throat and looked at the chair in front of the witcher searching form permission which Geralt granted with another curt nod. Only after the hunter had sat down he started to talk again. 

“It isn’t that I want you to kill it, it’s just… it nested really near the village and people are starting to getting too scared to go out, especially some of the other hunters, and I fear someone is going to do something stupid and get killed.” He explained keeping his voice low. 

“What is it?” Geralt insisted. 

“A Seer.” The hunter replied looking around frantically to be sure no one was listening in to their conversation. 

“Seers don’t nest so near humans.” Geralt noted taking a sip from his beer. 

“This one does. I saw it myself, it was just there waiting. I wouldn’t mind, but, as I told you, some of the others are getting weary and I can understand why: it’s not a reassuring presence.” 

“What do you want me to do?” 

“I don’t know. Scare it away maybe? Listen, I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I don’t like killing for the sake of it and that Seer isn’t hurting anyone. Hell, for what I know it might have been living here longer than all of us and we just only noticed, but I know my men and, especially the younger ones, will take this as an opportunity to be heroic or some shit like that and I’d really prefer to avoid it. I’ll pay you, exactly the same as a normal hunt. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.” 

Geralt hummed. He liked the man which he found really irritating. Probably was just the fact that he hadn’t come asking for blood only because a creature different from humans had graced his line of vision which, admittedly, was setting the bar a little low. Geralt had started raising the bar a little higher since he had met Jaskier. Still, he had meant far worse humans than the one in front of him.

“I’ll do it.” He said in the end with a grunt. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning if everything goes well you won’t have this problem anymore by lunchtime when I’ll come to collect the payment.” 

“What if things don’t go well?” 

“Then you’ll have a feral witcher in your hands, make sure to aim for the neck.” He replied with finality. The hunter paled slightly but nodded. He stayed a while longer to describe how to reach the Seer’s nest then wished him a goodnight and left. Jaskier took his place shortly after for his break. 

“Got a contract?” he asked after ordering his food and drink. 

“So it seems.” 

“What is it? Not another kikimora, please. I have no more ways to spin some of those in an enjoyable song.” Jaskier whined stealing a sip of beer from Geralt’s mug, the witcher just let him without commenting. 

“I don’t’ get to choose the monsters, Jaskier.” He reprimanded. 

“Oh, so it is another kikimora,” Jaskier whispered disappointed and Geralt felt the annoying urge to make him smile again. 

“It’s not. It’s a Seer.” 

Jaskier immediately looked at him, the light of interest sparkling in his blue eyes. 

“I thought they had disappeared.” He said with wonder in his voice. 

“They didn’t, but they’re very few and they don’t usually like to live near humans.” 

“What did it do?” 

“Nothing for now, but the hunter who offered me the job said that some of his men are starting getting nervous and he doesn’t want them getting hurt.” 

Jaskier’s expression immediately changed in a disapproving frown and he shook his head letting his brown locks falling over his forehead. 

“It isn’t like you to kill an innocent creature, Geralt.” He noted like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Geralt wanted to counter, but there wasn’t much to say, Jaskier was right, after all. 

“He doesn’t want me to kill them, just send them away.” He explained. 

Jaskier’s expression morphed in a knowing smile with a tad of something that could have almost been called pride which made Geralt warm all over, a sensation that the witcher quickly clamped down without thinking too much about it. 

“You think you’ll be able to?”

Geralt shrugged. 

“Seers aren’t evil, they’re sentient creatures, highly intelligent actually, more than any other creature known, humans included. It is odd for them to live so near villages, so if this one does there must be a reason, maybe they need help and then they’ll go away.” 

“What if they don’t?” 

“I’ll try to make them reason, it is best for them too if the humans don’t attack them.” 

Jaskier hummed thoughtfully. 

“Well, I, for one, can’t wait to witness this incredible new adventure. I can only imagine the song I could carve out of this one.”

“You’re not coming.” Geralt interrupted him with finality. 

“What?” Jaskier said lamely. 

“You heard me.” 

“Why not? You said yourself that Seers aren’t evil! It can’t be as dangerous as the countless other times I followed you while you slaughtered manticores and drawners.” Jaskier protested in a whiney voice that already made Geralt’s will falter. When did it happen that he became so sensitive to Jaskier’s levels of satisfaction? Actually, thinking about it only gave him headaches so he stopped. 

“I distinctly remember to have told you not to follow me all those times.” 

“But I also survived all those times, right? So why don’t let me come this one time without putting on a fight?” 

“Because it might be more dangerous than usual.” 

“But you just said,”

“I know what I said.” 

“Then let me come!” 

“You don’t understand.” 

“Well, you aren’t really explaining, aren’t you?” 

“You’re not giving me time to explain.” Geralt growled more loudly than he intended to and some head turned in their direction only to deterred by Geralt’s glowing look. 

Jaskier sucked in a breath and then leaned back on his chair raising his hands in the air. 

“Go on then.” 

“They’re not evil, as I said,” Geralt started after a moment trying to regain some composure, not that Jaskier gave any sign to be scared or even uncomfortable. Jaskier had never been scared with him, no matter what Geralt did and that was something that he really didn’t know how to take. “But they can become, hum, vicious when they feel attacked. I heard about a witcher who went completely mad after trying to go against one. Killed almost an entire village before they managed to kill him.” 

“The only thing that this teaches me is that witchers are just easily fooled by inflated stories as humans are,” Jaskier commented with a grin. 

“Witchers don’t inflate stories. If we did we could cause another witcher’s death.” Geralt replied coldly. 

“All right, all right, it could be dangerous, but, Geralt, this could be the only chance I’ll ever get to see a real Seer. My life isn’t as long as yours.” 

Geralt knew that. He found himself thinking about it nearly once a day. 

“You’re not coming.” 

“Listen, think about it this way, this hunt could be a piece of cake. The next one, let’s be honest, will probably not. I promise that if you let me come to this one, whatever happens to the next I’ll obediently wait for you at the inn or at the camp.” 

Geralt considered it: he was pretty sure nothing was going to happen with the Seer, he was convinced they were probably hurt or in need of something and that they would go away as far as possible from the village once Geralt helped them. On the other hand, there was no way the next hunt was going to be as safe as that. 

He growled in defeat. 

“You’ll do exactly what I’ll tell you to do, is that clear?” 

“Yes! Of course! Oh, thank you Geralt, thank you!” Jaskier jumped excitedly holding his forearms with his slender hands for a moment before standing up suddenly with his lute under one arm. “I’ll better go back to work if we want our room and bath paid, but seriously Geralt I can’t wait for tomorrow.” 

“Try not to get too drunk, I want to have an early start tomorrow morning.” He replied trying not to focus too much on Jaskier’s elated expression or the feeling of pride that the knowledge of being responsible for that created. 

“Cross on my heart,” Jaskier said looking over his shoulder at him while going back to the small stage. 


	3. Chapter 3

Jaskier observed Geralt standing and marching to the stairs to their room not much more time after the bard’s break. He felt a small pang of pain at the sight, but it was all right, really, after all, Geralt had said that he wanted to wake early the next day. 

Jaskier too didn’t intend to play for much longer, a couple of songs maybe, one last beer and then in bed. He was too excited at the idea of seeing a Seer the next day anyway. 

There had been a young woman with whom he had flirted all night and who had enthusiastically flirted back, she lingered near him even after his set and she giggled tenderly when he offered to buy her something to drink. She was witty and smart and she yearned for adventure and for life outside that small village which only meant that she ate up all of Jaskier’s stories hungrily. The bard could feel the familiar pull he always felt in his guts when he was starting to fall for someone even though, lately, that pull had started to feel somewhat muffled by another one which, at that moment, wanted very badly to lead him in that room on the first floor where Geralt was probably getting ready to sleep. 

“Listen, I’ll understand if you’re already taken,” the young woman said following his hundredth glance towards the stairs, she sounded dejected but kind and Jaskier couldn’t help but love her a little more. She would have made a perfect muse for his next ballads, he could already picture himself leaving the village waving in her direction with tears in his eyes and his heart a little bit broken. Yes, that sounded purely romantic. 

“Geralt and I are not like that.” He replied with a bright smile, he had had plenty of practice hiding the bitterness behind his words. 

She didn’t sound very convinced raising her beautiful eyebrow in a perfect arc. 

“You must be worried someone is going to steal the staircase then.” She commented sarcastic taking a sip of her beer. 

“It’s only that Geralt wants us to wake early for the job he was offered.” He explained with a flourish of his hand. 

“Yes, I’ve heard, the Seer. Old Mic has been going around talking about it to whoever had at least one ear to listen. Are you going with him? Aren’t you scared?” 

“You mustn’t have listened to any of my tales if you ask me this question, I accompanied Geralt in hunts far more dangerous than this one.” He bragged with a smug smirk.

“Yes, but a Seer is different, isn’t it? They’re so mysterious and my nan used to say that they could steal your mind just looking you in the eyes.” 

Jaskier shrugged. 

“Geralt will know what to do.” 

“You thrust him a lot.”

‘For a witcher’ was implied, but Jaskier knew that tone of voice well enough. 

“Geralt is the best man I’ve ever met, human or not.” He countered final and the woman only smiled fondly. 

“I know you have to wake early, but there is this spot just behind the barn, incredibly poetic, that I’d really love to show you.” She said almost coyly and Jaskier didn’t lose the meaning behind her words. 

He let himself be led by her delicate hand on his and he managed to forget the sleeping witcher in the room on the first floor for a while. 

It was until much later that the sleeping witcher came back to his mind, specifically while he was trying to enter their shared room without waking him. 

He tiptoed inside and divested as quickly and silently as he could, but when he went to lay down he noticed Geralt’s bright eyes watching him intently. 

“Sorry, I tried not to wake you.” He apologized sliding under the covers. 

“Witchers’ hearing.” Geralt simply replied. He sounded, well, disappointed which slightly annoyed Jaskier, who did he think he was judging Jaskier’s love life? 

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” Jaskier repeated. 

“Will I have to protect you from some scorned husband or father tomorrow?” Geralt asked in that tone of voice of his when he tried to sound as neutral as possible because he was hiding something else, annoyance probably. 

“Don’t worry, she was as free as a bird, gleeful and lovely as one too. A lovely dove for the singing lark, that would make quite the ballad. Don’t you think?” he babbled half asleep. 

“Mmh.” It was Geralt's only answer. 

“Geralt, tell me, are you worried about tomorrow?” Jaskier asked after a moment suddenly remembering the conversation he had with his new love. 

“I don’t have the luxury to get worried about hunts.” Came the swift reply. “Are you?” and well, that was unexpected. 

“I never worry when you’re with me.” Which wasn’t completely truthful, Jaskier worried plenty when Geralt was around, just not for the reasons Geralt was inquiring about in that moment. 

Geralt grunted noncommittedly and Jaskier considered the conversation concluded, but then Geralt turned to look at him and asked: “Jaskier, did you finish the song you were composing earlier in the bath?” 

Wasn’t Geralt full of surprises that day? 

“I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, I’m afraid.” He answered truthfully. “But I could… I could try something here for you if you wanted.” He added unsure cringing at the shaking of his voice. 

“I do.” Geralt answered in a low rumble and Jaskier almost let out a small whine of pleasure. 

He cleared his voice. 

“ _ A town, a town, there was a town I say. And a lovely young maiden tall, kind and fair and she danced, she danced, she danced I say, she danced with her shadows ‘till the break of the day. _ _ One day came a bard, a bard, a bard I say, eyes as blue as a clear summer day, _ ” Geralt grunted amused at that, but he didn’t interrupt Jaskier who went on smiling softly to himself, “ _ and he sang, he sang, he sang I say, he sang to the maiden with moonlight in her hair. _ ” 

He suddenly realized where this ballad was going and stopped immediately, scared that he had revealed too much to the witcher laying at his side, but, in the silence, he realized that Geralt’s breathing had evened out and he was probably asleep. Jaskier sighed hoping that the witcher had fallen asleep well before understanding the meaning behind his words and closed his eyes listening to the reassuring rhythm of Geralt’s breathing. 

The next day Jaskier was woken up by someone forcefully shaking his shoulder. 

“Wake up, Jaskier. We have to go.” Geralt husky voice called him. 

“I’m awake!” Jaskier protested rolling on the other side of the bed and hiding his face in the pillow. 

“I’m going. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with only my recounting of the facts.” Geralt said approaching the door. Jaskier immediately jumped out of bed, one leg already in a pair of clean trousers. 

“You’re so manipulative at times.” He complained putting on his doublet while Geralt observed him leaning on the door’s frame with an expression that could almost be called amused. 

They were out before the sun could even rise higher than the trees surrounding the small village, eating their simple breakfast while walking well deep into the woods. 

Jaskier tried to distract himself from his tiredness meticulously detailing his fast-paced love story with the young woman he had met the night before, but when he noticed that Geralt’s expression had changed from his standard blank face of disinterest to glowing scowl of displeasure, he thought wiser to change the subject. 

He was wondering if the witcher would have liked to hear the song he asked about yesterday again or if it had only been a one-time thing when he noticed the witcher in question becoming suddenly stiff and, as it was by then a natural reaction, he tensed up himself. 

“What is it?” he asked in a whisper, but before Geralt could answer he realized he could feel it too: a change in the atmosphere around them. It felt like stepping inside molasses, the more they walked the more it became difficult to advance, and even to breathe, not one animal could be heard in the woods. It wasn’t incredibly discomforting, it was just enough to make you remember that it was there with every step and really managed to keep you on edge. 

“We’re nearing them.” Geralt observed after a while even if Jaskier could not understand from where he had deduced that. 

Useless to say, he was right, of course, and with no warning at all the weird sensation disappeared so quickly that Jaskier was left almost dizzy. They were in a small clearing in front of a cave and, at the entrance, a veiled figure was sitting surrounded by lit candles even in the bright light of the morning sun. The veils were black as the night and covered the entire figure, making it more similar to a dark stain in the bright clearing, except for their face which was clad in a silver eyeless mask, carved with intricate shapes, keeping free only their mouth, even though 'mouth' was maybe a strong word: it was a black slash over skin as white as alabaster. In front of them, a silver basin filled to the brim with water reflected the light of the sun. 

“I was waiting for you.” The Seer said or, at least, Jaskier thought he said, their lips didn’t move but the voice resonated all around them in the small clearing. 

Geralt nodded solemnly. 

“We’re sorry we’re disturbing your home. I was sent with a message from the village.” He said with a deference that Jaskier had never heard him use. He must have been quite worried about the Seer’s capabilities to use that tone of voice. 

The Seer’s lips curved slightly upwards in something that, if it had been a more human mouth, it could have been a grin. 

“I wasn’t talking with you, witcher.” He said and Jaskier felt a shiver running down his spine. 

“What do you mean?” Geralt almost growled taking a step in front of Jaskier protectively and if the whole situation hadn’t been so incredibly surreal, Jaskier would have probably found it touching. 

“You have no need to hear about your destiny, don’t you, Geralt of Rivia? The girl in the woods.” The Seer replied with that creepy grin and Jaskier saw Geralt tensing and taking in a shallow breath as if to mask his own shock. The Seer’s grin only grew wider and then they turned their eyeless face to Jaskier beckoning him forward with a black-clad hand. “Come to me Julian Alfred Pankratz, you have nothing to fear.” 

Before Jaskier could even decide what to do, he felt a strong hand gripping his shoulder. 

“Leave him be, he’s only a bard.” Geralt said echoing the words he had said the first time they had met during their adventure with the elves. 

“No one is only something to my people. Now, let him come to me.” 

“What if I don’t want to?” Jaskier asked with a braveness that probably bordered on idiocy. The Seer’s lips became a thin line on the pale skin and they let their hand fall back down. 

“You have nothing to fear." The Seer replied in what Jaskier assumed was his version of a sweet voice. "The witcher is worried because he heard of the stories, stories of people losing their minds glimpsing into their future, but those who go mad are the ones who fear their destiny. Do you fear your destiny, bard?” 

“No, I don’t think I do,” Jaskier answered with conviction and not a small amount of curiosity. He moved to take a step forwards when Geralt’s hand on his shoulder stopped him once again. The witcher used his leverage to make Jaskier face him. 

“You’re not doing that.” He spat in his face and there was anger in his eyes, but also something else, something that Jaskier was shocked to recognized as panic. 

“I’m warning you, witcher, I won’t ask a third time.” The Seer said menacing and Jaskier smiled reassuringly to Geralt. 

“It’s fine, Geralt. I’ll be fine.” He said softly. 

“You don’t know that.” Geralt replied, but he let go of his shoulder. 

“It’s weird, but I kind of do, actually.” 

"You promised you were going to do everything I said." Geralt reminded him and the panic in his voice was then far clearer. 

"Tell me what to do then," Jaskier replied not challenging, but sweetly, knowing really well that they didn't really have any other options if they didn't want to upset the Seer. If Jaskier had to choose between his sanity and condemning Geralt to go on a rampage and being branded again as a butcher, he really didn't have much choice, did he?

Geralt looked almost desperate, but he didn't say anything. Jaskier smiled once again to the witcher and then turned to walk in front of the Seer with a confidence that he wasn’t really feeling. The Seer gestured for him to sit down on the other side of the basin and Jaskier did, almost in a trance. The Seer produced a small knife from behind his back, asked for Jaskier’s hand and carved a small cut in his palm. 

Even in his almost-trance, Jaskier could hear Geralt’s quick intake of breath behind him. 

The Seer took Jaskier wounded hand in their cold one and let a couple of drops of blood fall into one of the burning candles around them, he swirled the wax and the blood for some instant with the knife and then raised the candle and let fat drops of melted wax fall into the water in the basin. 

“Now, look into the water, bard.” The Seer told him with his sly grin. 

Jaskier did as he was told and leaned forwards over the basin to look into the clear water. 

“Oh.” He said. 


	4. Chapter 4

Geralt could not remember the last time he felt such freezing fear. 

Probably during his Trials. Not even with Renfri he had felt so helpless and terrified. If he lost Jaskier… He could not even imagine what he was going to do. He could not leave him, not even if the bard completely lost his mind, he would have stayed with him, gave up the Path, everything, because it was all his fault. He shouldn’t have caved when Jaskier insisted to come with him, he always did and finally it happened: he had put Jaskier in danger and wasn’t able to protect him. 

He kept thinking about what he had done wrong, but he had to admit to himself that they didn’t have much choice, not once they entered the Seer’s nest, filled with the creature’s magic. Angering them would have meant retaliation and that would have surely ended with both him and Jaskier injured if not worst. Humoring the Seer was the only option that gave them the possibility to come out of there safe and sound, but only if Jaskier survived whatever that ritual was. 

There was no one as strong-willed and stubborn as Jaskier, though, so Geralt believed, had to believe at least, that he was going to survive that. 

At Jaskier surprised ‘oh’ Geralt felt a shiver running down his spine in anticipation while he waited with his heart in his throat for the bard to tell something else, anything. 

“That wasn’t what I expected.” Jaskier finally, finally, said raising his eyes to the Seer expectant face. 

“In my experience, it rarely is.” They replied with an amused smile. 

Geralt decided he could not wait anymore and he almost launched himself where Jaskier was sitting, kneeling next to him. He took his face in his own hands and, ignoring the bard’s huff of surprise, started to search for any sign of pain or discomfort. 

“I’m fine, Geralt, really.” Jaskier tried to calm him but didn’t move to stop him. 

“I told you nothing was going to happen, witcher.” The Seer added with a grin and stood up. 

Geralt let his hands linger on Jaskier’s cheek a moment longer than necessary and then let them fall at his sides and stood up helping Jaskier doing the same. 

“I believe you came here with a message for me.” The Seer said then. 

“I think you know what I came here to say.” Geralt replied darkly, it had down on him that they had been played by the creature. 

The Seer only smiled cocking his head to the side. 

“I had a message to deliver to the bard and what better way to do it than wait for his witcher companion to led him to me?” They asked sarcastically. “I have no interest in a fight with humans though, so, I will leave.” 

Geralt breathed a sigh of relief at those words, they were safe.

“Thank you for your message,” Jaskier said.

The Seer shook his head. 

“It’s what we do, we’re nothing but slaves of Destiny. I have one last piece of advice to each of you before I’ll leave these woods forever. Julian, remember, the future I showed you is but a point of arrival, the road you will walk to reach it it’s still full of crossroads and companions you’ll choose of your own will, it won’t make them less important than the things and people chosen by your Fate.” 

“Uhm, well, all right. Thanks again, I think.” Jaskier replied uncertainly.

Then the Seer’s eyeless face turned to Geralt who bore the stare unflinching. 

“Geralt, look out for the woman with lilac and gooseberry, you’ll need her to complete your destiny.” They said. 

“Mmh.” Geralt said trying to convey in it just how little did he care for destiny. 

Like he had appeared, the Seer vanished in front of them taking with them the basin and the candles. The clearing was empty except for the two of them. 

“Geralt, listen, birds! I had forgotten I couldn’t hear them anymore.” Jaskier exclaimed. 

They started walking back to the village in complete silence. Geralt was angry. He was angry with himself for panicking and being unable to save Jaskier, he was angry at Jaskier for insisting on following him, he was angry at the damn villagers for being unable to deal with one harmless Seer. He just wanted to go back to the inn, pack his things, and leave the whole experience behind. Maybe even find some excuses to part ways with Jaskier, give him an opening to go find his own destiny. 

Jaskier’s silence lasted less than five minutes.

“So, are you not going to ask me what did I see?” he wondered bumping his shoulder against Geralt’s. 

“No.” 

Geralt really didn’t need to hear the confirmation that Jaskier was going to leave him sooner or later, especially not after the experience they just went through. 

“Oh yeah, the whole ‘not believing in destiny’ thing,” Jaskier replied nodding sagely and vaguely condescending. “Don’t you think the girl in the woods thing they told you could be linked to your child surprise in any way?” 

“No.” 

“Are you going to answer no to all of my questions?” 

Geralt turned to give him his coldest stare and Jaskier raised his hands in surrender. 

“I’m tired. I just want to arrive at the inn as fast as possible and you walk slower when you talk.” He explained trying to hide the swarm of emotions that were fighting to come out of his chest. 

Jaskier mumbled something along the lines of ‘you literally didn’t do anything this time’ and Geralt let it go, he wasn’t in the mood for banter. 

Once they were back in their room at the inn, Jaskier moved immediately to the basin under the window and submerged his hand in the cold water. 

“Hey, could you pass me some bandages please?” he asked distractedly inspecting his hand under the water. 

Only then Geralt remembered the cut on Jaskier's hand and immediately moved to help him bandaged it. 

“It’s only a cut, Geralt, really, it’s not even that deep.” Jaskier protested when Geralt took his hand into his to inspect the small wound. 

Geralt ignored him and bandaged his hand carefully, trying incredibly hard not to let his fingers linger too long over Jaskier’s slender ones. 

“Listen, Geralt,” Jaskier started after the silence stretched for as long as the bard was usually comfortable with, “I know you’re angry because I improvised and I didn’t follow your instructions, but”

“I’m not angry, Jaskier.”

“No, let me finish. If there was even the slightest of chances that that Seer was going to make you lose your mind, I couldn’t let that happen.” 

Geralt understood, of course, Jaskier had been more worried about what Geralt could have been done out of control than a seemingly harmless Seer. 

“That won’t be a problem ever again,” he replied letting go of Jaskier’s hand and taking a step back. “This was the last time you accompanied me to one of my hunts.” 

Jaskier gaped like a fish for a moment too shocked to even speak.

“Wait, Geralt, aren’t you overreacting a little? I mean, I’m here, I’m fine, nothing happened.” He protested when he found his voice again. 

“Because you were lucky!” Geralt growled turning around, he had the frightening feeling that his face was going to show too many emotions at that moment. 

“I knew what I was doing.” Jaskier protested stomping his foot on the ground like a pouting child. 

“You really didn’t. You were just so damn curious about whatever idiocy about destiny and fate they were going to tell you.” Geralt replied angrily busying himself with his bags. “If you really so damn curious maybe you should just leave me be and go find out for yourself.” 

“And who’s going to compose epic songs about your deeds once I’ll be gone?” Jaskier asked softly with a voice that Geralt couldn’t quite place, it sounded amused but with a vein of sadness under it. 

“I don’t need that.” Geralt growled back. “And you must have collected enough stories to last you for two whole lives, you can go and search for your own destiny or whatever.” 

He felt a pang of pain when he pronounced those words, casting the bard away had become more painful than a knife in the ribs apparently. 

Jaskier looked at him confused for a moment and then realization washed over his face like light over the mountains at sunrise. 

“Geralt, you never asked me what did I see in the water.” He said calmly sitting down on their bed. 

“Because I don’t care.” 

And he didn’t. Destiny could go fuck itself. But Jaskier believed in it, of course he did, he was a bard and an extremely romantic one at that, he believed in all that crap about fate and true love and predestination, his songs poured those stuff from every word. If Jaskier believed his destiny laid far from the witcher nothing was going to stop him to leave him sooner or later. And it must have been that way. A bard as talented as Jaskier was meant for richness and fame, castles and adoring crowds, not the meager and uncertain life as a witcher’s companion. 

“I saw an old woman singing one of my songs to her grandchildren, many, many years from now,” Jaskier explained ignoring Geralt. 

Well, didn’t that prove exactly Geralt’s point? Jaskier was destined for fame. 

“Perfect. As if your ego needs more busting.” He mumbled instead. Still with his back turned even though he had long stopped trying to keep his hands occupied. 

“It was a song about you, Geralt.” 

Oh. Surprising, but not completely unexpected. After all, Jaskier had composed a lot of songs about him. 

“I told you, you have enough material for two lifetimes.” 

“It wasn’t a song I’ve already composed, but I knew it was mine. It painted you like the hero who saved the Continent from Evil and those children were so enchanted, not a trace of fear on their faces, they all wanted to be like you.” Jaskier went on, his expression dreamy and lost as if he could see that scene in front of him again. “That is my destiny, Geralt.” 

The witcher felt a feeling surge inside of his chest, it was warm and liquid and it terrified him more than he was ready to admit so he did what he usually did in those occasions: he crushed it back down. 

“Luckily for you, destiny is bullshit. Especially Seers’ predictions, their weird, vicious, and manipulative creatures, who knows why the fuck did they make you watch that.” He replied standing in one fluid movement and picking his bags up. 

“I know what you’re doing right now, you know? You’re not fooling me.” Jaskier said slightly annoyed following his movements from where he was perched on the bed. 

“Mmh.” Geralt retorted non-committedly.

“Yeah, you’re avoiding the subject because it makes you uncomfortable. Only because it’s something that you can’t address with a well-placed blow of your sword.” 

Geralt grunted. He didn’t trust himself to open his mouth before he could do something stupid like agreeing with Jaskier. 

“What’s so terrible about someone wanting to stay beside you? I’m not asking anything else from you, Geralt, I’ve never had.” Jaskier went on unperturbed by Geralt’s lack of answers, he sounded more frantic by then, almost desperate and Geralt wanted to ignore the discomfort that brought him, but it was turning out to be quite difficult. 

He looked around the room checking he had taken all of his things, pointedly ignoring the bed, where Jaskier was still sitting. 

“Geralt, what are you doing?” Jaskier asked after a moment of silence and Geralt could clearly sense it then, the desperation, the aching. He couldn’t let himself dwell on what that might have meant or he might have changed his mind. 

“I think it’s best if I travel on my own for the time being.” He finally answered. 

“Of course you do,” Jaskier replied defeated. “I’ll finish the song you asked me to sing to you, for the next time we see each other.” He added and he was doing that thing he did sometimes when he tried to sound cheerful and light even when he clearly was neither of those things. 

Geralt hated the fact that he was the reason for that. 

He grunted a goodbye and left the room. 

It was the right thing to do. He and Jaskier had traveled together longer than they were used to, it was only normal that Jaskier had filled his head with stupid thoughts about Geralt’s heroisms, the bard had the disturbing tendency of putting him on a pedestal, especially in his songs, some time apart would have given him the right perspective. Especially if he was going to spend that time as a guest in some noble’s castle, something that had started to happen much more frequently lately. With a bit of luck, he was going to understand that there was where he belonged, not beside a witcher.   
Geralt would have never forgiven himself if the bard was going to waste his life following him like a faithful dog. 

He loved him too much to be able to bear that guilt. 

Wait. 

He had reached Roach in the stables. He sent her a look of pure panic while realization washed over him like a wave. 

“Oh.” He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so, this is the last chapter of this fic, but, in the case you weren't feeling completely satisfied by this end, nod be afraid! Soon I'll start the fic of the second part of this series!  
> Thank you so much for sticking with me, for the kudos and the lovely comments.  
> I hope all of you could find a little comfort reading this little thing of mine amidst these difficult times.  
> Love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first work in this fandom. I had kind of a writer block lately and these two are helping me getting out of it. Let me know what you think and thank you for reading.  
> Read fics and stay at home (if you can)!


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